Posted by Atticus on January 19, 2005, at 15:01:47
Lays Down a Whisker Drum Snare
Simon sleek as a snake,
His mind so awake, wrapped in a
Charcoal-toned sheath of fur,
Sets his jade full-moon eyes
On the ruckus nearby,
Cocks his head and simply purrs.
Asks Mishka if that cat
Wants to add sweet jazz to that,
But at first the tabby demurs.At a table, hairless apes, mouths all agape,
Sip the juice of the grape
Amid a world of drunken blurs.
“I think it’s wasted on them,”
Mishka huffs, a smirk within,
“But if you like, you can go first.”
Cat’s blast of Coltrane
Spins sax spells on their brains,
As Simon cuts loose a throaty burst.And Mishka don’t care,
Lays down a whisker drum snare,
Makes the apes forget their thirst.
So the joint really swings
To “My Favorite Things,”
The audience fully immersed.
The cool cats improvise
’Til midnight plus five,
Fluent, flowing, but all unrehearsed.“Sometimes they’re so unhip,”
Mishka says through pursed lips,
“But, baby, I’ve sure seen worse.”
Simon nods a quick yes,
Puts his lungs to the test,
Hits a high note, claw-sharp and terse.
The cats take their bows,
Figure that’s all for now,
For primates so culturally unversed.
-- Atticus
poster:Atticus
thread:444269
URL: http://www.dr-bob.org/babble/write/20050118/msgs/444269.html